The Devil and the Thief
by El loopy
Summary: 'Once upon a time there was a Thief who stole the Devil's car.' How Ella and Lucifer might have met in the alternative world of 'Once Upon a Time'. Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_**Most stories begin with 'Once upon a time'.**_

_**Once upon a time there was a young woman who met the Devil at the crossroads. She was fair of face and good of heart but there was a secret grief buried deep within. A desire she could not fulfil. And he offered her a deal… **_

_**You know the story. The names may change but the essence remains. Over time there were many women, and men, reaching the crossroads of their lives. They were not all fair of face, nor good of heart, but there was always a desire. And there was always the Devil.**_

_**This story is a little different.**_

_**Give people different options, different circumstances, will they themselves end up different? Will they still be the same person at their core? Some, no matter how you shake things up, are drawn to the same people. The same passions.**_

_**Once upon a time there was a car thief…**_

…_**who stole the Devil's car…**_

* * *

Ella threw her head back and let the wind whip through her hair. An exultant laugh whooped from her lips as she pressed her foot further on the accelerator and the car roared up another notch. This one could really move. She'd fallen in love with it the moment she'd set eyes on its multiple exhausts and convertible roof. Now here was a car that was flirting with her outrageously. It practically begged her to steal it. If her brothers had been there, they would have absolutely forbidden it. Far too obvious, far too flashy and far too expensive.

The mark had just jumped out of it for a moment, he seemed to be having a rather heated discussion with a drug dealer. Well, the drug dealer was heated. Swearing hot, angry words, spat into the night. The mark seemed incredibly calm, his British accent drifting over to her out of the warm darkness, soothing the sharpness. Either way, her brothers weren't there, and she was having a bad day. A voices-in-her-head day. She needed something to shut – them – up and driving fast always worked.

Besides, he'd even left the keys in the ignition for her. The British toff probably didn't even know how to drive a car of this quality the way it deserved. If you thought about it, she was _rescuing_ the car.

Ella gave another whoop. This was the best bit of the job. It was only enjoyable if you drove them really, really fast.

* * *

_**Everyone knows you don't steal from the Devil.**_

* * *

It was some time later before she relented to inevitably and pulled the car into one of her usual drop spots, tugging the keys from the ignition and relishing the weight of them in her hand. No good trying to flog this one; it was far too beautiful for that. The cops could find it later and return it home. She tucked her hair back under her hood and gave a disappointed sigh as she swung out the car, one hand still clutching the keys in a reluctance to part. The dash received a loving pat.

"Nice job beauty. I'll be seeing ya."

"Well, I don't think I've ever had my car stolen by such an undeserving scruffy n'er do well."

Ella spun around, fear clenching her gut with fingers sharp as knives. There was a man there, standing in the light cast from a nearby lamppost. He was stunningly attractive, with a dashing suit cut to his figure and he looked…annoyed. She could practically smell power and danger on him. His words trickled into her brain like sludge. He was the owner? The British guy talking to the drug dealer…but how?

"As a matter of fact, I don't think I've ever had my car stolen, period." He took a couple of steps forward and she thought his eyes flashed red. "No one has ever dared."

Her throat had completely dried up and primal fear held her. Fear of something she didn't understand.

"How are you here?" she rasped out, fingers gripping the car door behind her. "You couldn't have gotten here."

The man was close enough for her to see his face more clearly now, and he hers. Confusion flashed across it in a furrowed brow.

"Well, I had to fly didn't I," he responded in a patronising tone of voice and with a sharp, swift motion she barely saw, he tugged her hood back, revealing her face. He gave an appreciative grin, mood almost completely changing. "I stand corrected. Not a scruffy ne'er do well after all. A very pretty ne'er do well."

She felt her face flush, an attraction towards this stranger unaccountably flaring but she fought it back. She was used to fighting the voices. Slowly she shifted her weight, easing her fingers away from the cool metal.

"You can have the car back now," she attempted a nonchalant tone. "I was done with it."

He hiked an eyebrow. "Were you now?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "Here. Catch."

She threw the keys in his face and bolted.

* * *

_**And everyone knows you can't outrun the Devil.**_

* * *

At first the fear took over, sending her scattering away, breathing harsh and ragged, but she stilled it. She forced a rhythm from her legs and let the pavement pound through her. She knew these streets. She knew she could get away.

Gradually the sensation of being chased subsided and she slowed, letting her heart rate steady, her breathing regulate. She had dropped to a walk, her head tilted behind her, checking the shadows, when she strode straight into him. Hands closed over her wrists like a vice and she was too terrified to struggle as she stared up into his eyes. It was impossible. _He_ was impossible.

"You didn't think I was going to let you get away that easy did you, my pretty thief? Not when I've got to decide how to punish you." He lilted _punish_ like a caress, his expression no longer angry, only faintly amused. Like he was laughing at her.

She should have been scared, voice quivering, about-to-be-very-hurt, scared. Instead she found herself annoyed, indignant even. She was standing up straighter, as tall as her shortness would allow, words bubbling out and bursting into the night.

"Look Buddy," she sharpened her tone as much as could and enjoyed the look of surprise on his face. She would have snatched her hands back, but his grip felt far too solid to even attempt it. "I don't know what your problem is. You _got_ the car back." A smirk curled onto her lips, mischievously sharp, matching the glimmer in her eyes. "I just took her out for a spin. Would've been a sin not to."

* * *

_**And yet, against all odds, all reasoning, the Devil let her go.**_

* * *

His grip tightened on her wrists, a peculiar expression crossing his face, like she'd hit a nerve, and then she got it. She couldn't help the smirk transforming into a grin. It was like light breaking through the dark fog the voices made in her mind and the real her shone out.

"That car's _stolen_ isn't it?" There was a sly I-told-you-so quality to her tone that took him by surprise. Her head bobbed meaningfully, punctuating each word. "You _totally_ know what I'm talking about."

He let go of her wrists like she'd burned him.

"Yes, well," he straightened his suit and looked put out. "Be that as it may, you still stole from_ me_." She could hear the lack of conviction in his voice and knew she'd won.

"Nuh uh," she leaned forward into his personal space and he almost flinched back. "_Borrowed_ it."

"Right. Yes. Fine. Borrowed." He was eyeing her almost cautiously now, like she was unpredictable, but there was curiosity mixed in too.

"Dude, we like, share a bond now." She was grinning widely, and he looked like he had never met someone who left him so…off balance.

"I think not," he replied tartly, but it did nothing to deflate her. She was feeling the overwhelming urge to hug him, just to see how he'd react.

"All right, here's what's going to happen," he took a step away, thwarting her plans for a hug ambush. "Due to our mutually excellent taste in cars and the quite blatant promiscuity of this one in particular, I'm prepared to not pursue this further."

She gave him her best irritating smirk, one eyebrow raised in a 'uh huh, really?' expression. His tone took on an irritated growl.

"So, I suggest we just walk away from this and pretend it didn't happen."

Like she was going to let that be the case.

"I'm Ella," she replied instead. "Ella Lopez."

"Lucifer…Morningstar," he responded automatically and putting added emphasis on the name, like it should scare her.

"Cool."

She flipped her hood back over her head.

"Well, Lucifer Morningstar, it was nice meeting you," she paused significantly before adding, "and your car." She turned and started to walk away, adding over her shoulder. "See you soon."

There was a moment of silence behind her before an indignant, "you most certainly will not!" reached her ears. She grinned into the dark, whispering to herself under her breath, "Oh, I wasn't talking to you."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_**Once upon a time there was a car thief who stole the Devil's car. The Devil was furious that a mortal would dare to challenge him in this way and gave chase. Afraid of the consequences, the thief fled, but everyone knows that you can't outrun the Devil. She was caught. She should have been punished with a curse of Fairy Tale proportions, something befitting of a thief that had dared to steal from the Gatekeeper of Hell. **_

_**Yet there was something about this mortal that moved him to still his hand. Some sort of understanding that bound them, and so he let her go with the promise that he would never see her again.**_

_**The car thief had other ideas.**_

* * *

Lucifer couldn't believe it when he walked out of his recently acquired night club, and found his car gone. Again. For the second time in six months. He checked his pockets to make sure he hadn't left the keys in the ignition this time. Sharp edges of slightly warmed metal and smoothed plastic met his questing fingers. He hadn't.

"What's the matter, Sweetie?" the woman on his right arm crooned.

Lucifer gave her a dashing smile, ensuring that he also extended it to the woman on his left arm.

"Change of plan, ladies. Our ride has been inconveniently detained," and it was most certainly going to be inconvenient for whoever was responsible when he caught up with them. There was some disappointed pouting from his chosen company, and he extended to them a devilish grin. "Why don't we take the party upstairs instead?" He'd been planning to investigate the nearby night life competition with his entourage first, before the final destination of his penthouse. The women didn't, however, seem too terribly disappointed. He was thinking hard as he led them back inside. He no longer had his wings to chase car-thieving miscreants, having exchanged them for two red slashes on his back, wounds tender and healing. He supposed, he pondered reluctantly, that he might have to inform the mortal police. Or he could just send Maze after the thieves…if he never wanted the bodies to be found…Tomorrow's problem, he decided.

It turned out that this was the correct course of action, solidifying his view that more often than not, doing nothing meant the problem solved itself. His car was back in place the next morning with a note on the driver's seat.

'_You might as well make me a set of keys. E.L.'_

Anger surged through him, hot and burning, at the audacity of the thief. Eyes glowed red. It took him a moment to remember the slight, scrappy car thief with the pretty face, who had told him boldly that she'd only borrowed it.

He found the anger abruptly died and a chuckle escaped. She had said she would…borrow…his car again.

"Very well Miss Lopez," he murmured and slid the note into his pocket, "But I'm not giving you a key."

* * *

_**For the Car Thief had fallen in love with the Devil's car, and as we know well, mortals will risk everything for their True Love.**_

* * *

Ella couldn't help herself. In the months after the initial theft she had dreamt of that car. Longed for it. When the voices began to whisper, she had stolen anything that she could drive as far and as fast as possible, as she always had. Yet in her mind had risen the sleek beauty of that car, how it had felt on the road beneath her hands, and the voices weren't quite as drowned out as they were before. The wretched machine had spoilt her for any other.

She had resigned herself to eternal unrequited pining when she saw the notice in the paper about a new club opening. The owner was one Lucifer Morningstar. The Brit in the suit, with the melodic voice and eerie ability to follow her. The Brit who owned the love of her life.

Love makes you do crazy things.

In this instance, under the title of 'crazy things', Ella found herself outside the club, running her hands tenderly over the paint, whispering, "I told you I'd see you again."

She had intended to just look at it, but one thing led to another and the next thing she knew she was tearing through the night.

Lucifer was going to be mad.

She let it worry her for a fleeting moment before she shrugged it off. He would just have to deal.

Even so, she didn't stick around the next morning to find out.

* * *

_**Turns out the Devil quite likes to play games…**_

* * *

He wasn't mad. That confused her. He wasn't prepared to give her the keys though. The next time she borrowed the car she found that he'd left her a note in the glove box, just as she'd left him one on the dash,

'_Miss Lopez, the thrill is much more exhilarating if you've had to work for it. You're welcome.'_

She'd scowled when she read it. He was right but she was pretty sure that wasn't the real reason.

'_You're just scared that your car might like me better than you.'_

She left it on the steering wheel, so it was easy to find.

Over the next few weeks that was how they communicated. Every few days Ella would take a trip to Lux and take the car out for a drive. Always at night. She wasn't stupid enough to try for it in the day, no matter how much she wanted to feel the sun bake her as she drove or tear up to the top of the cliffs to watch it dance on the sea. Today was different though. Today was a Bad Day. A Worst Day. Today she stood barely hidden in the shadows, feeling the sweat on her neck, waiting for him to bring the car home. She _needed _that car. The heat from the wall burnt the bare skin of her arm, the brick, little pinpricks of roughness, scraping at her as she shifted. It grounded her. The voices whispered and taunted and jeered. She swallowed and shut her eyes, imagined the joyful thrill of being alive as she accelerated, the swoop of the perfectly executed turn. She had tried many things unsuccessfully to cope with a Worst Day, but that was before The Car. Her eyes snapped open as she heard a familiar engine pull up. She watched the sleek handsomeness of Lucifer Morningstar unfold gracefully from the seat and some part of her appreciated the view. Not the main part. The main part told her to get to the car as quickly as possible. The back door of Lux had barely closed behind the owner before she hurried over with snapped strides and placed her hands on the paintwork. A sigh of relief rippled through her. Here was safe and familiar. She tossed the hoodie from around her waist into the passenger seat and slid further into the welcoming interior. For a long moment she just sat, letting her eyes flutter shut, letting it soothe. The engine punctuated her meditation with quiet ticking noises as it cooled. Ella sighed again and opened her eyes. Out of habit she reached for the glove box and pulled out the latest note.

'_Do we have to work out a shared custody arrangement?'_

She smiled weakly, feeling drained from her internal battles, slipped it into her pocket to appreciate later and set about starting the car.

She needed to drive far and fast.

* * *

Lucifer answered his phone on the second ring. He had only been home long enough to shower and change and was putting the final finishing touches to himself before heading down to Lux. He tucked the phone under his ear so he could continue straightening his cuffs.

"Hello? Mr Morningstar?"

"The one and only," Lucifer nodded to himself, satisfied everything was in order, flashed his trademark smile and took hold of the phone again.

"This is the LAPD." Intriguing. "We have your car…"

"Oh?" the smile faded.

"…and we've arrested the thief."

* * *

Lucifer looked around the offices with great interest as the cop babbled away in his ear. He hadn't even registered the guy's name, so was mentally referring to him as Detective Douche. Across the room he spotted Ella sitting miserably in her chair, slumped forward, elbows on knees, head in her hands. Something inside him gave a small twinge. She hadn't looked so young when he'd caught her in the dark a few weeks ago. The harsh lights in the room made her seem smaller. Her clothes were black; ripped denim and a hoodie. She looked like all shades of trouble to any onlooker, particularly surrounded by all the shiny officers in their shiny uniforms. The perception was a lie. She slowly lifted her head, as though she was aware that he'd come in, and fixed him with a defiant glare. That was a lie too, even if no one else could see it.

"Ella Lopez," he heard Detective Douche breath out, voice a little smug, a grin on his face, "looking every inch the troublesome waste of space that she is. Part of the Lopez car theft ring. We've been trying to get our hands on them for a long time."

Lucifer wasn't sure what it was that flashed the annoyance through him; the tone, the disparaging comment, or just Detective Douche's face. Either way he found himself saying, with more than a dash of condescension, "Theft? You're mistaken. I let Miss Lopez borrow my car."

Oh yes, the look on his face was well worth it.

"You…what…" he stumbled over his words, found a foothold and tried again, "but there was no key in the ignition."

Lucifer's face broke into his most devilish grin. "Oh that? That's just a little game we like to play." He rocked back a little on his heels. "We have an _arrangement_." The way he said it made it sound positively sinful.

"An arrangement?" came the faint reply.

"Yes." Lucifer responded crisply. "So, there will be no charges against the young ne'er-do-well. Come Miss Lopez," he directed this at the car thief, and she startled, "time to go." He began to turn but thought of something else. "Oh yes." His face came quite close to the officer's as he added, "and I'll be having my car back."

* * *

Ella felt almost glued to Lucifer's side as they exited the police station. She didn't usually get so clingy, independent woman that she was, but the whole getting-arrested-suddenly-being-rescued thing had thrown her.

Arrested. She'd been arrested. With the handcuffs and the jail and the being locked up. No freedom. Chattering voices in her head rejoicing as she had panicked. Her brothers were going to kill her. She'd been scared and miserable and then suddenly there he was. Her accuser. It had irked her that he looked better in the light than she probably did. All handsome and suited. He hadn't accused though. He had freed her and the relief made her giddy. So she had followed him like a second shadow out the building, as though he would protect her if they tried to snatch her again.

They emerged into the sunlight and her car was sat there, waiting for her, in all its sleek beautiful glory.

"Yes, she is quite magnificent isn't she," Lucifer purred proudly. Ella realised she'd left her mouth gaping open in a look of delighted wonder and shut it.

"Its good to see her," Ella managed quietly. She still wasn't quite sure where she stood with this man. The car though, she itched to drive. Her brush with captivity was cloying like cobwebs on her skin. She needed to blow them off.

"You're welcome by the way," Lucifer declared magnanimously, and Ella raised her eyebrows, irritated.

"For what?"

"Why…" his tone was high and offended, "for getting you out of the nick of course."

Ella put one hand on her hip and leveled a look.

"Look Buddy, if you'd just given me a key this could have all been avoided."

Lucifer made a thinking noise before saying, "Very well. Tell me why you steal cars just to drive them fast and I will cut you a key. Do we have a deal?"

It took her a while. Fear and want tearing her apart, and he waited expectantly, those orbs of his focused on her so intently that she knew she wanted to tell him. So she did.

"To blow away the voices in my head."

Feeling frail and exposed she waited for the ridicule, the derisive laughter. She kept eye contact for a blink before she lost it, averted them anywhere but at him.

There was no ridicule though, no laughter. Just one word.

"Catch."

She had a second's warning before she flashed out her hand and caught the item mid-air. The car keys.

"Ready for a drive?" he grinned at her, all teeth and challenge and she found herself answering the grin.

"Always."


End file.
